So Help Me, Freud
by reid-my-lips
Summary: Akasuna no Sasori is a psychologist whose life revolves around his work and study; he has no passion greater than that of his field. But what happens when he develops feelings that make him doubt his own sanity? What happens when a certain blonde patient sends his life spiraling out of control? SasoDei; yaoi/boy love. No like, no read, no flame. M for language and adult themes.
1. Chapter 1

[Author's Note]

Um, to start this off, I'm pretty sure I was supposed to be working on Enigma these past few days. Sadly, that was not the case.  
You see, I was flying home from my dad's house last Sunday, and it's not a long flight (only an hour). I originally intended on writing more GaaLee music drabbles, but I just couldn't get anything going for them...I just can't write really sad stuff for them, and I've already written to most of the happy/upbeat songs I have for them. So I decided that I'd start some music drabbles for my other boys: Sasori and Deidara.

I did not write drabbles.

No, instead of writing some little drabbles, I ended up writing a full-fledged chapter of what seems to be a multi-chaptered AU fic. That's what I've been doing. Sue me*.

So, instead of Enigma, GaaLee drabbles, or SasoDei drabbles, I'm bringing you the first chapter of my new fic, "So Help Me, Freud". I blame Madonna entirely, but I'll explain that later. I should probably finish up my intro and get to the fic right now.

So yeah, finishing up. This fic is currently T or something, BUT I DO NOT PROMISE THAT IT WILL STAY THAT WAY. If you plan on staying with this (and hopefully I stay with it too..), you should absolutely prepare yourself for an M rating.

Furthermore, this is my first SasoDei fanfiction. First one. If you read this and don't give me some sort of feedback, I will hunt you down and punch you in the face**. So please, please review. I'm begging here.

Enjoy this. I hope you like it. I don't own Kishimoto's characters.

* * *

So Help Me, Freud — Chapter One

___"We are never so defenseless against suffering as when we love." —Sigmund Freud_

* * *

Sasori sat at his desk, clutching at his vibrant red hair. This was so _wrong_. What the fuck was wrong with him?

"Well!?" he shouted at the ceiling. "What is your problem with me!?"

Sasori stared angrily at the ceiling for a few moments before letting his head slam down on the table. He was yelling at a deity he didn't believe in.

"Oh, Freud..." he pleaded to the empty room. "Analyze this. Surely this is explainable..."

Sasori rarely indulged in any of the behaviors he was exhibiting. He didn't have arguments with himself; he didn't talk to non-existent deities or men that had long since been dead. It was very uncharacteristic of him; he was certain he was going insane.

And it was ALL that little blonde's fault.

Akasuna no Sasori was a psychologist —he loved the human mind. It was a pristine masterpiece of nature, full of miraculous feats and mysteries. There was always something new to learn from it, a new ability to be discovered, a relic of ancient times to be unearthed. It was eternal art, a masterpiece that never stopped growing.  
Truly, Psychology was Sasori's passion, as well as his religion and life. To him, Sigmund Freud was a god. He was the Father of Psychology, the Maker of all its foundations. Sasori had vowed to spend his life following the man's teachings.  
And up to this point, he'd done a damn good job of it. He was always the first one in the office each day, always the last one to leave. His assistants actually worried about him —as far as they knew, he didn't sleep.  
And they were right; he didn't. Somehow, he had been able to transcend the limits of the very thing he revolved around. But he tried to keep that to himself. He wouldn't be able to continue in his profession if all of his colleagues were studying him.  
Sadly though, his love of the subject was what doomed him. He knew very well that there was no syndrome for what he experiencing. No therapy, no cure... He knew that his pleas to Freud were in vain. Hell, if the famed neurologist _did_ analyze him, he'd probably just tell him that he was one sick puppy. Or perhaps a total idiot. Maybe both.

Sasori continued to bang his head against his desk, knowing full well that he was damaging brain cells. Perhaps that was his goal: to beat the issue out of his head.  
Oh, who was he kidding...that was foolish too. He'd probably have to upgrade to a sledgehammer before he could manage that much memory loss, and he honestly wasn't even sure that would work. Sleep deprivation certainly had no effect. Maybe Itachi was right...maybe he wasn't human.  
Itachi was the only colleague that Sasori actually respected and looked up to. The man was a true genius, and he excelled at his job. There was no keeping secrets from him either; he could really get in your head. He was practically hypnotic —even the ANBU used him. He was so good at what he did that he had a bounty on his head in several countries.

Sasori found him terrifying.

Despite that however, Itachi was the only one that knew the secrets about Sasori. He hadn't willingly revealed them of course...but Itachi had sworn himself to secrecy. No matter how scary Itachi may be, he kept his word and was very trustworthy. He was Sasori's only friend.

The red-haired man threw himself back in his chair, unintentionally rolling himself into a wall. Certainly, if he should be having these thoughts at all, they should be about Itachi, not _him_...  
Sasori slammed his palms into his face as images of his young patient flooded his brain. His long golden hair, his bright blue eyes...

Oh man, he should _not_ be feeling like this.

The young man, Deidara, had been one of Sasori's patients for years now: longer than anyone else he had ever treated. He had a ton of issues... ADHD, a speech impediment, mood disorders, and an obsession with explosives, as if that wasn't enough. Despite this however, Deidara was a sweet kid, and Sasori saw him frequently —as many as three times a week.  
The two of them were fairly close, and Sasori knew that Deidara looked up to him and needed him. The kid had no parents, and was always on the brink of expulsion several years ago. He had no money —Sasori saw him for free— and no home, always staying with a friend. He was very grateful to the redhead for all that he did for him.  
Indeed, Sasori did a lot for Deidara: he saw him for free, paid for his medications, and had even been known to give him money for food when things got really rough. He gave the blonde his personal phone number (making him one of three people to have it), and occasionally he would have him over for lunch. They would make things together, both of them having a love for the arts. They had different views on the subject, and preferred different media (Sasori liked to build things, Deidara was a sculptor), but they still had a great time when Sasori dragged himself away from the office long enough to buy some materials and invite him over.  
Yes, Deidara definitely looked up to his doctor, affectionately calling him "Sasori no danna" rather than "Dr. Akasuna" as his other patients did. They were both on very good terms with each other.

And Sasori was about to fuck it all up.

Perhaps he really shouldn't be surprised that he had begun to feel this way, considering how close they were...but that didn't change the fact that he was almost twice the blonde's age. Sure, he didn't look it —but he was thirty-five. Deidara was nineteen, and his patient. At the most, he might have developed fatherly feelings for the boy, but that wasn't the case. He had considered himself a mentor for Deidara, helping him get through high school...and now he found himself loving the young man. Loving him in a way he shouldn't.

Sasori slunk down in his chair, looking up at the clock on the wall. 5:47. People would be coming in to work soon.  
He let out a long sigh, collapsing on his desk.

"Sigmund Freud," he muttered through his arms. "Help me."

* * *

I wrote this to three songs. So as a small addition, and an explanation of why this is Madonna's fault, I will give you the songs.

For the first few hours of writing:  
[Madonna — Die Another Day]

Next hour or two:  
[Korn — Freak On A Leash]

The rest:  
[Gary Jules — Mad World]

_*Please do not actually sue me. For any reason._

_**I probably won't punch you in the face, but please review anyway._


	2. Chapter 2

[Author's Note]

Man! You guys are like piranhas!

-shakes reviewer off arm-

SHM, F wasn't even up a whole day, and I already had 3 reviews! 3! I'm so happy! Thank you so much! To express my gratitude, Dr. Akasuna will prescribe drugs for ALL OF YOU!

Sasori: I think you were better off with threats, and... -eyes reviewers- ...I don't think these guys need any drugs.

He's probably right.

Anywho, keep it up guys! You're doing great! ヽ(；▽；)ノ

By the way, I'm SO SORRY that Ch. 2 took so long. It just refused to be written! Adamantly so! But it's done now, and sure, there's not a lot of SasoDei, but it's better than nothing! Background, bitches! ;D

Enjoy! Reviews are great! I didn't listen to much music this chapter, but if you have any suggestions for music that I could write to, DO SHARE! It might show up in one of the chapters! And thanks a million to those of you that have already given me suggestions! They will surely come in handy! And "Mitchi", I have no clue who you are, but thank you for your detailed review! I'd send you a PM, but you're anonymous :(

Okay, on to the chapter. REVIEW OR DIE! :D

* * *

So Help Me, Freud — Chapter Two

_"Just as no one can be forced into belief, so no one can be forced into unbelief." —Sigmund Freud_

* * *

The rest of Sasori's day went about as smoothly as his mental hell had gone. He really _hated_ some of his patients.

"I'm telling you, you are not immortal. You can't go around stabbing yourself in the gut." he said for what seemed like the hundredth time. He wasn't sure if he could ever get that in this kid's head.

Across from the psychologist sat a thin, silver-haired teenager. His midsection was wrapped tightly with bandages and his face —or entire body, for that matters— was painted black with white bone designs. He'd been caught in a "ritual" again.

"Like you know any-fucking-thing about me!" he screamed, pointing madly at the red-haired doctor. His crazed expression was almost comical next to Sasori, whose merely blinked at him uncaringly. He really hated this kid.

"I know that mutilating yourself in the name of God is beyond crazy." Sasori yawned, propping his chin up on his palm.

Hidan was one of the patients that Sasori would do ANYTHING to be rid of. He was homicidal, sadistic AND masochistic, devoutly religious —he made the doctor sick. He was foul-mannered and disrespectful, loud and ignorant...he wasn't even clean. He reeked of blood and/or hospital every time Sasori saw him, depending on whether the appointment was scheduled or not. This time was the latter.

"God," the teenager scoffed, running a hand over his slicked back hair. He was talking up at the ceiling, a grin forming on his painted face. "Ain't that fuckin' hilarious, Lord Jashin?" Sasori silently took note of the boy's every move, hoping to find some sort of criteria that could be diagnosed as 'too insane to treat'. The doctor rolled his eyes, finding none.

Sasori was Hidan's therapist for the very reason that he hated the teen: the kid was unbearable. Sasori was the only psychologist in the entire tri-country area that hadn't lost it with Hidan or worse; the one before him had actually tried to throw the teenager out of the window. Hidan had been transferred to him on a prison call.

Despite this though, Sasori took the kid; he was famous in his field for being able to treat unruly patients. He'd gotten Deidara under similar circumstances.

Something in the redhead's subconscious slapped him. Hidan and Deidara were nothing alike. Nothing at all. How could he even _suggest_ that? Hidan was harsh and brutal; Deidara was sweet and gentle, artistic, beau—

Sasori cut off the thought, pushing the blonde out of his mind. Hidan was rambling loudly about his religion, but Sasori was no longer listening, instead dialing the extension to the assistant's desk. He put the phone to his ear.

"Hello?" answered a voice, clearly agitated by Sasori's call. "What do you want? I'm doing invoices."

Sasori wasn't surprised. Kakuzu wrote more invoices than he had appointments to write them for.

"Come get this kid." he said flatly, inspecting his fingernails. "I'm through with him."

A flurry of keystrokes clicked in the background.

"What happened this time?" asked the employee.

Sasori eyed the silver-haired teen, who seemed to be completely immersed in his conversation with the ceiling. He turned his attention back to the phone.

"Stab wound to his midsection."

"Mmm." the man mumbled on the other end. "How bad?"

"Straight through."

Kakuzu winced in his chair.

"'Ritual'?"

Sasori nodded. "Yeah."

The phone was silent for a few moments, save for Kakuzu's keystrokes.

"Hospitals must make a fortune off him." he mused aloud, finishing an invoice for an appointment three months in the future. Sasori gave a silent nod, agreeing without admitting it.

"Come get him. We're transferring him to the asylum in Otogakure."

Kakuzu halted.

"What! But I- we make so much money off of him!" he protested.

"Come get him." Sasori repeated calmly, and he hung up the phone. Kakuzu was right —Hidan did bring a lot of income. His parents paid double the normal rate per session. Despite this though, he was through with that kid. He was _not_ dealing with him anymore, money be damned. Especially not with all the crap that his own mind put him through.

The door of Sasori's office swung open, revealing a tall, tanned man with bright green eyes. His face was mostly covered for the benefits of others (Sasori said that he'd prefer to not have to treat everyone that saw Kakuzu —Kakuzu said it was good business), a scarf and hood hiding the stitched-up Glasgow smile that stretched across the man's face. He wore a black sleeveless shirt and jeans, his arms scarred and muscular. He looked very out of the norm for an employee of a psychologist's office.

But alas, that was Kakuzu, and Sasori only had him around others when he wanted to make sure that someone didn't come back. He usually stayed in his own office, doing the company's finances or writing invoices. Kakuzu loved money.

"Hey kid," Kakuzu said, his voice coarse and gruff. "Come on."

Hidan's head snapped to the large man in the doorway.

"Who the fuck are you?" he yelled, his black face frowning at the intruder. Kakuzu said nothing.

"This is Kakuzu." Sasori explained. "He's been assigned to take you to the Sound Research Facility. I will no longer be seeing you."

Hidan's eyes grew, showing their unnatural shade of violet.

"What?! You can't fucking do that to me! You can't send me off—"

"I can and I will. There's nothing else I can do with you."

The red-haired doctor threw a glance at Kakuzu.

"Get him there however you can."

Kakuzu nodded, an odd glimmer in his eyes, and dragged the teen out of the room. He'd be gone for several days taking Hidan to Otogakure.

Sasori groaned. Hopefully they'd both make it there okay.

Of course, he was more so worried about Hidan. Kakuzu had...unusual methods.

Kakuzu was a war veteran that Sasori had helped through severe PTSD. The man had been taken as a POW by Commander Hashirama Senju's troops and was tortured and interrogated, leading to the many scars and stitches that covered his body. He escaped their clutches after several months, but when he returned home, his village denounced him, disgusted that he hadn't been able to defeat Senju. It was then that Kakuzu snapped a bit.

He left his home and became a mercenary soldier, renting himself out for boundary disputes and assassinations. By the time Sasori found him, he was a wanted man in the bingo book. He had four mask-like tattoos on his back —one for every high-end man he killed— that he said were the mens hearts.

Treating him had been a nightmare.

Still, Kakuzu was a good person with finances. And he was different now. He and Hidan would make it to Sound okay—

"Dr. Sasori, sir—"

Sasori was pulled out of thought by his bumbling assistant, Yuura, stumbling through the door with a armload of paperwork. He could only watch in horror as the young man tripped, sending a cloud of papers flying over the room.

Sasori slammed his palm over his eyes, groaning.

"Gee, Yuura-san, you sure are a klutz, un."

The redhead turned immediately to the door, color draining from his face as he saw the lanky form of the blonde in the doorway. Surely he didn't have an appointment with him today.

"Deidara.." he mouthed, mortified.

"Hey, Sasori no danna."

* * *

Okay! SasoDei interaction next time! I hope you enjoyed! Review!


	3. Chapter 3

[Author's Note]

I come bearing a chapter! It's full of interaction! It didn't hate me like Chapter 2 did! Yay!

Warning: Updates may start coming slower after August 20th, because I start school. I'll try though, I promise! I also have to alternate chapters of this with chapters of Enigma for my LeeGaa fans, because YOUTH IS DANGEROUS.

Anywho, THANK YOU, GUYS, for your awesome support. Your reviews give me great joy. You're the best!

I hope you enjoy this chapter. Anyone that doesn't review goes to Sound Research Facility, doctor's orders! Because reading and NOT reviewing is a degree of insanity that Sasori cannot handle.

Enjoy!

* * *

So Help Me, Freud — Chapter Three

_"He that has eyes to see and ears to hear may convince himself that no mortal can keep a secret. If his lips are silent, he chatters with his fingertips; betrayal oozes out of him at every pore." —Sigmund Freud  
_

* * *

Sasori stared in horror as the blonde walked in and sat down in the cushy chair across from him. He was vaguely aware that he hadn't blinked in over a minute, and to be honest, he wasn't sure he had taken a breath either.

_'This is not happening.' _he thought to himself.

But _oh fuck _it is.

Sasori swallowed the lump in his throat, forcing a smile on his face.

"H-hey, Deidara." he stammered. Maybe the boy would be too ADHD to notice.

"Danna, you're acting weird, un."

_Fuck._

The blonde teen got up from his seat, making his way to the doctor's desk and leaning down to look the redhead in the eye.

"Danna?"

Sasori's face was frozen in a wide grin, shaking with nervous laughter. His left eye was twitching as Deidara leaned down to look at him, and he surely looked crazy.

"_Danna._" Deidara repeated, his tone taking a turn for serious. He moved his head even closer to the doctor's, seeming as if he thought he could read the redhead's mind if he just got close enough. His hair brushed against the doctor's nose and Sasori thought he was going to die.

_Don't smell his hair.  
Don't smell his hair.  
His eyes are so blue...  
No, don't look at his eyes.  
Is that vetyver?  
No. Don't smell anything.  
Is he wearing cologne?  
DON'T SMELL ANYTHING.  
What a pretty shade of blue..._

"I'm fine." Sasori lied through gritted teeth, pulling himself out of his mental hell for the third time that day. Deidara didn't buy it, crossing his arms and raising a blonde eyebrow.

"No, really." he insisted, nodding with a grin. The teen shrugged his shoulders and walked back to his seat.

"Whatever, Danna. But you don't smile like that."

Sasori ignored that last part. An awkward silence fell between them.

"So.." the redhead said at last. "What's going on? Did we have an appointment today? I could've sworn I was supposed to see you on Wednesday—"

The blonde shook his head, a grin spreading across his beautiful face.

_'Stop it.' _Sasori scolded himself.

Deidara's golden hair flipped around as the teen hopped in his seat, quickly becoming a mess. Any concerns he had seemed to be forgotten, and he looked very excited. Sasori narrowed his eyes, finally slipping into his normal state of mind.

"Stop bouncing. You're being a spaz." he said coolly. The teen immediately sat up straight and still, but a goofy grin was still plastered on his face.

"Sorry Danna, un! I'm just so excited!" It looked as if it pained him_not_to bounce.

The doctor gave him an exasperated look. The kid had so much energy; it was exhausting. But it was endearing somehow.

_Cut it out._

"Well?" he prodded. "What's going on?"

Deidara grinned wider.

"I got a new place, un!" he exclaimed. His speech got worse when he got excited.

Sasori raised a rusty eyebrow. "You're not living with Ōnoki anymore?"

The blonde shook his head.

"No! I have a new roommate!"

The doctor's mouth pulled into a slight smile.  
Ōnoki was an old man that Deidara had been living with as a tenant, and from what Sasori heard at sessions, he was a real dick. He'd cared nothing for Deidara's sculptures, said that the boy was a criminal, and that he was wasting his life. The man's words really bothered the teen —but Deidara wouldn't let you know that. The blonde never even told Sasori.

But Sasori could tell. He hated Ōnoki. He was glad he was out of Deidara's life.

"That's good." the redhead nodded. "Who is it?"

The doctor must have zoned out for moment when he was thinking about the teen's last home, because when he spoke, the blonde nearly jumped out of his skin. He appeared to have been preoccupied by counting the vertical threads in the woven cover of his chair.

"Dann-un!" he shouted, slurring his honorific with his impediment. He gave a wide-eyed glare at the psychologist. How adorable.

_Stop. It. Now._

Sasori clenched his eyes shut and opened them again, as if his thoughts were a speck of dust clouding his vision.

"Well?" he said, repeating his question. "Who is it?"

Deidara instantly went back to his bouncy, over-excited self.

"He's a boy that attends the college I want to go to, he's pretty nice, un, and he doesn't mind my personality at all, un! He's kinda kiddish, and he's got dark hair, and —well, actually scratch that one bit; he's older than me...doesn't act like it, but he is... He's in the drama club! He's so goddamn flitty though, I swear, I think he can disappear into thin air—"

"_DEIDARA_."

The blonde stopped rambling on about his roommate when the doctor interrupted him, sitting up straight and wide-eyed like a child put in his place. Sasori's eye was twitching again, but this time, it wasn't out of his character. He waited for a moment before continuing, allowing Deidara time to calm down. He'd learned that time was necessary. Mandatory, actually.

"Dei." he breathed, biting his lower lip in frustration. He was supporting his head on his knuckles, and his dusty brown eyes were closed. "You know I don't like waiting. What's his_name?_"

"Oh." Deidara said plainly, his expression becoming something only describable as 'hmpf'. "His name's Tobi, hn."

Sasori silently noted that the teen was mixing his tics.

"Tobi." he affirmed, eliciting a nod from the blonde. That sounded familiar, but then again, it wasn't an uncommon name. He probably had at least four different patients whose name could be shortened to that. "How long have you lived with him? Do you get along?"

Deidara nodded again, grinning. "I told you, he likes me fine, un! He calls me Deidara-senpai!"

The redhead decided to ignore the fact that Deidara hadn't said anything about how _he _felt about his roommate, instead focusing on the teen's inability to process more than one question at a time.

"How long have you been living there?" he repeated.

"Oh, un! I just moved in this morning! I mean, I know my appointment's in two days, un, but I couldn't wait to tell you! I didn't even eat breakfast!" The blonde's hair was a mess from all of the bouncing and hopping he'd been doing. Sasori smiled.

_He chose me over breakfast._

The doctor mentally slapped himself, and the two continued talking, slipping into a rhythm that was only interrupted by his super-ego correcting his id. A lot was said before Sasori noticed the clock on his wall, and most of it was in regards to Deidara's new living arrangements.

"CUUUUCCCCKOOO!"

Sasori had never intended on owning a cuckoo clock, but nowadays he didn't question it; it helped him stay on time.

_'And it was from Deidara.' _added the id as the doctor stared up at the bird of the clock.

The clock had been a gift from Deidara —kind of. The therapist had found it —along with a mess of ashes and shrapnel— when he walked into his office on Christmas morning. It turned out that the blonde had stolen his clock (by blowing up the lock), modified it, and put it back over the weekend.  
Sasori gave him a key to the office in return.

Deidara smiled up at his handiwork.

"I'm glad you use it, Danna."

Sasori laughed.

"I'm glad you don't blow up locks anymore." he answered. "But we can't talk now; I have an appointment in fifteen minutes."

Deidara nodded, standing up. "I should probably be going anyway; Tobi'll be back for lunch, un."

"Okay."

The redhead narrowed his eyes in a playful sneer.

"Don't fall in love with him." he joked, saying the line he said whenever the teen got a new roommate. His id was serious though.

Deidara rolled his eyes from the doorway, looking back at his doctor.

"Come on, Danna." he laughed, waving. "I'm not _gay_."

* * *

[Author's Note]

Do not fret, SasoDei fans! It'll be okay!

The 'super-ego' and the 'id' are references to Freudian psychology. Wikipedia will explain for me:

_"Id, ego and super-ego are the three parts of the psychic apparatus defined in Sigmund Freud's structural model of the psyche; they are the three theoretical constructs in terms of whose activity and interaction mental life is described. According to this model of the psyche, the id is the set of uncoordinated instinctual trends; the ego is the organized, realistic part; and the super-ego plays the critical and moralizing role."_

Here's the music I wrote to this time:

First bit (and something in the middle):

[Die Another Day — Madonna (her again!)]

Most of the middle:

[Over and Over — Three Days Grace] Thank you, Akatsuki Annabell-YAOI ROCKS, for this wonderful song! Really suits Sasori's position!

All the rest:

[I Think I'm Paranoid — Garbage] The first few lyrics is Sasori's current opinion of Tobi.

But anyways, thanks for reading! I'm thinking of making the next chapter from Deidara's POV. What do you think?

Review or your locks get blown up!


	4. Chapter 4

[Author's Note]

It's finally here! Yay! I'm sorry it took so long; Enigma fought me for a while before I decided to write this instead. And then I had a bit of block...  
But it's here now1 Enjoy it! By popular demand, it is in Deidara POV.  
Read and review, guys! Reviews keep me writing, you alive, your locks not-blown-up, and your faces not-punched. Let's keep it that way. And let's also give a big hand to Akatsuki Annabell-YAOI ROCKS and MitchiMarra, who have reviewed every chapter so far.

On a sadder note, school starts a week from now, so a time of most-likely-slower updates is quickly creeping upon us.

Here's an update now though, so read and review! Enjoy!

* * *

So Help Me, Freud — Chapter Four

_"Properly speaking, the unconscious is the real psychic; its inner nature is just as unknown to us as the reality of the external world, and it is just as imperfectly reported to us through the data of consciousness as is the external world through the indications of our sensory organs." —Sigmund Freud_

* * *

Deidara left the doctor's office very confused.

What the hell had just happened? What was up with Danna? Why was he smiling like that? Why was he smiling at all? Something weird is going on. He's not telling me something. Why did the chair smell like rubbing alcohol?  
The teenager's head was swimming with questions, most of which were about Sasori's odd behavior today. But another thing was bugging him.

_"I'm not gay."_

Why was that bugging him? He'd never liked guys. Never. He'd even dated a few girls. And he had been talking about Tobi; he'd NEVER like Tobi like that...God, Tobi was annoying as shit.  
But he didn't like saying that to Danna. Why? He told Danna everything. Danna knew more about him than anyone in the world. He was the only one that really knew him.

But why was that?

Now that Deidara thought about it, he really didn't know.

The teen continued to think about it as he strayed toward the grocery store, huffily blowing a strand of hair off his nose. He liked his hairstyle, but he didn't like hair on his nose. He liked hiding behind his hair.  
He didn't really know why he did that, either.

Just how much about himself didn't he know?

He made a note in his head to ask Danna on Wednesday.

Sasori no danna knew, like, _everything_. Everything. It was like he could see into his soul. Something about the redhead's dusty brown eyes just _knew_.

A small smile touched the blonde's lips. He really liked Danna's eyes. There was something so...old about them. And the shade was so unusual, like a piece of antique wood that had gathered dust. Deidara liked to live in the moment, but there was something really beautiful about the ageless look in those eyes.

The teen pulled out the grocery list Tobi had given him. He was supposed to do the shopping.

_Chocolate cake mix_  
_Icing_

Fair enough.

_Fish shaped crackers_  
_Fish shaped candies_

Deidara groaned, grabbing a box of Goldfish and some Swedish Fish.

_Candy coated peanut butter pieces, shaped like fish_

He was getting Reese's Pieces.

_Lemon juice  
Eggs_

Okay.

_Sediment shaped sediment_

A rock?

_One large rhubarb_

The fuck was Tobi making?

_All-purpose rhubarb_

Is that even a thing?

_Rhubarb juice_

I don't think that is.

_Granulated rhubarb_

This list looks familiar...

_One cross-borehole electromagnetic imaging rhubarb_

Deidara dropped the rhubarb he was carrying and smacked his forehead. Tobi had him looking for Portal cake ingredients.  
That bastard was going to eat fish-shaped solid waste for lunch.

As Deidara went about putting everything back on the shelves, his mind drifted back to his appointment.

"Sasori no danna really didn't seem like himself." he thought aloud, looking at the box of Goldfish. "He looked horrified when he saw me."

The snack smiled back at him.

"You know, un, that's really weird. I've been seeing him since I was 12, yeah, and I've never seen him like that."

The snack continued smiling.

"Agh, you're worthless."

The teen tossed the Goldfish back on the shelf and slumped onto the cart. Why did it bother him so much? Sasori was his therapist; he shouldn't be concerned about him. Danna could take care of himself. There was no reason to worry.  
But he did.

_"I'm not gay."_

Why was that bothering him!?

Deidara gave the cart a frustrated push and walked away. Fuck groceries.

The teen shoved his hands in his pockets, scowling as he walked out of the store. He wasn't hungry anymore; he was too distracted to eat. He needed to think.  
Caught up in his internal befuddlement, the blonde later found himself standing in a wide field on the outskirts of town. Sasori had taken him there several years ago on his fifteenth birthday.

_"Are we far enough out, Danna, hm?"_

_The redhead took a look around. The closest building was miles away._

_"Yes, I suppose. I don't think we'll disturb or hurt anything out here."  
He paused for a moment, then added, "Except for ourselves."  
His voice was a lazy monotone._

_Deidara rolled his eyes and smiled._

_"We'll be fine, Danna, un. This one detonates with a voice command!"_

_"Isn't that dangerous?" the man asked, raising an eyebrow. The teen just grinned wider._

_"Not at all, yeah! It only responds to my voice!"_

_Sasori gave a solitary nod, his eyes thoughtful, and Deidara pulled a sculpture out of a pouch on his hip. It was an egg-shaped doll of sorts, and it looked fairly disturbing. The teen carefully placed it in the middle of the field and ran back._

_"C'mon Danna!" he shouted excitedly. He hurriedly grabbed the man's arm, pulling him past the edges of the clearing. "Ready?" he asked._

_Sasori shrugged. "Don't kill us."_

_The teen nodded, his blue eyes fiery.  
3...  
2...  
1..._

_"KATSU!"_

A smile touched Deidara's lips as he remembered the explosion. It had been absolutely gorgeous. The best gift ever. And it had segued into one of the best conversations he had ever had with his danna.

_The doctor's eyes were...intrigued when the smoke cleared. He cocked his head to the side, catching a falling ember in his hand._

_"Why?" he mumbled, staring at the ember as it flickered away. He didn't seem to feel any pain from the burn he was almost certainly getting._

_Deidara raised a brow. "Why what, Danna, hm?"_

_"Why do you like these explosions?"_

_The doctor turned his head to the teen, who was looking out at the field. The ash had settled into the dirt and the smoke was completely gone —only the scorched earth remained. A satisfied smile crossed the blonde's face._

_"Because they're beautiful." he said, his gaze focused on the barren aftermath. "Absolutely gorgeous, yeah. They're art."_

_Sasori scoffed._

_"Art? You call that art? It's already gone." the man said pointedly, gesturing at the site of the blast. Deidara nodded._

_"Art is transient, danna. One moment it's here and it's not the next. Art is something fleeting and elusive, something we pursue, knowing we'll never catch it. It's the moment of explosion. You can practically see your life slipping away when the blast flares out around you, feel death kissing your lips...but then the smoke clears, the ashes fall, and you live on. The threat disappears, but you'll always carry the memory of it. It changed your life. That's what art does: it touches you in a way words can't."_

_A silence fell upon them as the teen finished, smiling contently. Sasori looked dumbstruck, and the blonde couldn't help but wonder if he had actually impressed his danna._

_"Oi. Danna." he said, prodding the redhead's forehead. "Whatd'ya think?"_

_The man blinked in amazement. "You spoke perfectly. Not a single 'un'."_

_Deidara smacked his forehead, staring at his danna in disbelief._

_"I meant, what do you think of what I said, hm?"_

_The doctor's face returned to a disapproving scowl._

_"You're absolutely wrong. Art is something eternal and everlasting. Art is something that lasts forever; not for mere moments."  
Deidara opened his mouth to object.  
"But," his danna continued, putting a finger to the teen's lips. "You are entitled to your opinion. I won't try to change it."_

The blonde smiled, sitting down on a toppled tree. He loved that about Sasori no Danna; he always accepted him. Even when they disagreed, even when their opinions were literally opposites of one another; Danna still accepted him.

_"There is nothing you can't say to me, nothing that I can't take. If I'm to help you, I have to understand what you're experiencing. I will be the puppet for all of your emotions."_

That's what Sasori had said to him when they'd first met, and it led to him having a strong trust in his doctor. He knew he could tell him anything. He always did.

So why did he feel like there was something he couldn't?

* * *

[Author's Note]

I actually had some Saso POV written, but I decided it would detract from the effect of Deidara's flashbacks and thoughts. It'll probably be included in the next chapter.

Music I wrote this chapter to:

First bit:  
[I Like It Rough — Lady GaGa]

The middle:  
[Because You Live — Jesse McCartney]

The rest:  
[Appreciation and the Bomb — The Spill Canvas — Suggestion by Akatsuki Annabell-YAOI ROCKS]

Keep suggesting songs, guys! I use them! I really do! In case you haven't noticed (because you don't care about my other work), I have used [Welcome To My Life — Simple Plan (gabrielsangel23)] and [Cello Suite 1i - Prelude — Bach (Solace In The Chaos)] in my drabble series. So keep it up!

I hope you enjoyed this chapter! Anyone that doesn't review has to eat the cake*!

*Note: YOU DO NOT WANT TO EAT THAT CAKE.

I don't own Portal, by the way.


	5. Chapter 5

[Author's Note]

Here I am, with the last chapter before I go back to school. This is a very sad day. Let us have a moment of silence for the inevitable slowing of updates.  
*moment of silence*  
Moving on, words of thanks to all who review. Reviews are good for your health, and your locks. They're also good for, you know, the continuation of the story.  
Unrelated: I've added Freud quotes to the beginnings of all the chapters. Check them out.  
More so related:  
I feel like I should tell you this fun fact: I have no clue what I'm going to write until I write it. I have only the _vaguest_ idea of what's going to happen next. Seriously, I know about as much as you do, maybe less.

I should get to the chapter now; I hope you enjoy it! I had a really hard time getting it done.  
Read and review!

* * *

So Help Me, Freud — Chapter 5

_"Obviously one must hold oneself responsible for the evil impulses of one's dreams. In what other way can one deal with them? Unless the content of the dream rightly understood is inspired by alien spirits, it is part of my own being." —Sigmund Freud_

* * *

Sasori woke up in a hot sweat, and that was the first problem. He had been sleeping.  
The second problem was the hardness he could see beneath the sheets.

_"Danna..."_

The voice in his dream lingered in his mind. So did the image of Deidara beckoning him to follow him. And the feeling of Deidara's fingertips on his. And the torment he felt.  
The dream had been a chase; every time he got close, the blonde would slip away, leaving the doctor with nothing but the sting of long hair that whipped his face when the boy turned away. Even after waking, that pain stayed.

_"Come here, Danna."_

Sasori shut his eyes tight, pressing the heels of his palms to them. Why was this happening? Why?

The red-haired man raked his fingers through his bedraggled locks, forcing himself out of bed and over to the bookshelf. He began rifling through the various books.

_'The Interpretation of Dreams'_

The psychologist gave a sigh of mild relief and pulled out the book.

"Oh, Freud," he breathed, switching on the lamp by his recliner. "Help me."

The redhead sat in his recliner for rest of the night, trying to bury himself in the words of his idol, but no matter how hard he tried, his mind kept slipping back.

_"Come here, Danna." the voice purred again. The words were whispered in his ear, strands of blonde hair tickling his face. Sasori felt his heart beating in his chest, a gentle thudding audible. The young man before him reached up to stroke his face, slowly edging his danna against a wall.  
"Deidara..." he breathed, hardly managing the words. He felt small tears forming in his eyes as he clenched them shut —he couldn't do this.  
But he could.  
This was wrong.  
But it felt __so right._

_The doctor choked back a sob, biting his lip. Deidara's hands were on his wrists, pinning him to plaster, holding him in a gorgeous nightmare. He was tip-toeing the edge of sanity, and any move would knock him off._

_Somewhere far away, a sound was softly moaned that sounded like his own. He could vaguely feel teeth grazing his neck, vaguely feel a throbbing pain in his abdomen. His body and mind weren't talking anymore._

_"What's wrong, Danna?"_

_There it was again, a purr in his ear that made him tremble. He felt a whimper escape his lips. He felt a finger wipe away a tear._

_"Stop..." he muttered, turning his head away. He couldn't face those bright blue eyes. "I can't..." His pain was obvious._

_The teen took the redhead's jaw in his hand, moving him back to meet sky eyes._

_"Can't what?" he whispered. Sasori sobbed._

_"I can't...I can't..." the doctor's body was shaking against the blonde's arms. "I...love you..."_

And that was where the dream had faded, twisting into the teen walking away and looking back from the doorway.

_"I'm not gay."_

Sasori slammed the book against his face, burying it in pages. Even his passion wasn't helping him now. Freud believed that dreams existed to give us what we cannot have in life, to give us pleasurable experiences. So why were his dreams giving him pain?

Deep inside, the redhead knew the answer, but he was repressing the knowledge at the moment. He was still grasping a shred of hope that perhaps he _didn't_ know every word Freud ever said, and that maybe, just maybe, reading his wisdom would comfort him somehow. That was his logic as he made his way back to his bookshelf, selecting an essay.

_'Beyond the Pleasure Principle'_

Surely that would help. Freud wrote that to explain why nightmares existed.  
But nevertheless, it did not...

_"no lesson has been learnt from the old experience of these activities having led only to unpleasure. In spite of that, they are repeated, under pressure of a compulsion."_

...it made things worse. There was no explanation for his dream, no explanation for his suffering. Freud's words only confirmed what he already knew. He could not be analyzed.

Sasori threw his head back in his chair, suppressed panic and anxiety bubbling to the surface. Quotes of his god slipped from his memory to taunt him.

_"Illusions commend themselves to us because they save us pain and allow us to enjoy pleasure instead. We must therefore accept it without complaint when they sometimes collide with a bit of reality against which they are dashed to pieces."_

It was true, but it hurt so bad...

_"The goal towards which the pleasure principle impels us —becoming happy— is not attainable: yet we may not —nay, cannot— give up the efforts to come nearer to realization of it by some means or other."_

So the other quote was a lie? What the hell?  
Sasori's mind was cracking beyond repair, and he couldn't help but force back a tear as he grabbed at his scarlet hair. He was dying inside, and there no way to fix it. Even the Father himself hadn't overcome this challenge —what made him think he could? Had he ever truly believed he could stop his feelings?

_"The ego is not master in its own house."_

The doctor cracked a grin at his own stupidity as the words echoed through his head. Of course it wasn't. The id, the primal desires; those were who cracked the whip. They were the reason for his suffering. What if Deidara realized how he felt? What if he ruined everything? He would have defied his teacher, defied his laws, sinned in the face of his Father...

_"A doctor should be opaque to his patients and, like a mirror, should show them nothing but what is shown to him."_

He would have destroyed everything.

For the first time in history, Sasori didn't go to work. He stayed in his house, stayed in his chair; only basic human needs would drive him from it, and even those were neglected. He didn't eat. He didn't drink. He didn't sleep, he hardly blinked; he did nothing.  
Nothing at all.  
Even his mind was still as he receded into himself. He became a shell. He became empty. Life only clung to him by pulling him along on a string, a mere puppet in the show of reality.  
Hours passed by him as he sat in his recliner, lamp on, though sun shone through his window.  
His eyes were on the clock.  
Unseeing.  
His hand was on his chin.  
Unmoving.  
His heart was on the blonde.

Unbeating.

* * *

[Author's Note]

Thus we end on a sad note. Sasori isn't working. He's missing his appointments. Next time, we'll see what happens when Deidara sees that his danna isn't at the office.

All of the quotes, if you couldn't guess, are from Sigmund Freud. Dude had some great quotes.

Music Written To:

Beginning:  
[One Headlight — The Wallflowers]

Beginning and Lower Middle:  
[Die Another Day — Madonna (no surprise here)] The theme of this fic.

Upper Middle:  
[Over and Over — Three Days Grace] Sasori's theme.

Very end:  
[Imaginary — Evanescence] It fits so well. Go listen to it.

So, what did you think? I hope it came out okay. Review or your heart stops beating!  
Ò_Ó  
Actually, no. That'd be hard to enforce.

Review or recieve a random prior punishment!


	6. Chapter 6

[Author's Note]

I LIVE!

Holy crap, that was a long break. I'm so sorry, guys. D:

But it's here now! It's 50 shades of Yaoi Hell, and 50 shades of gay as well!  
Hooray for word play!

Speaking of hooray, I have shout-outs to give, because you guys are great. Automatic shout-out to all who review.

And a special shout-out to MitchiMarra, Akatsuki Annabell-YAOI ROCKS, vampaddiction, and Sunfish-chan, who have reviewed every chapter!  
*round of applause*  
PsychoPyro and Solace In The Chaos also get a pat on the back for only missing one chapter.

And a SUPER-DUPER shout-out to my male readers! I'll be discrete about your identities (if I know you), okay? You know who you are.  
My boyfriend, who loves this story, despite being straight and not liking yaoi, SasoDei, reading, or the Naruto series. I did not force him to read it. But he did, and he's been bugging me to write this chapter, so I made sure to finish it for his birthday (9/08). Happy birthday, love.

The Lie, who likes the story despite the gay pairing. He says it's well-written

And The Mum, who hasn't read it yet, but looks forward to doing so. He says he'll read it this weekend.

I love you all! I hope you enjoy this chapter. Thank you for your awesome support; read and review!

* * *

_"The voice of the intellect is a soft one, but it does not rest until it has gained a hearing." —Sigmund Freud_

* * *

So Help Me, Freud — Chapter 6

"But Senpaiiiiiii~!"

Deidara cast a one-eyed glare at his roommate.

"I have an appointment, Tobi! I have to go, un!" he shouted. He knew it would be better to ignore him, but that wasn't something he was good at. The kid's voice was so annoying! So fucking happy!  
It wasn't hard for the blonde to shut the door in his face.

Besides, this appointment was important. He actually had something important to talk about with Danna. Most of their sessions were kept out of habit, not need; they were more like relaxing discussions with a friend than visits to a doctor. It was one of the reasons Deidara was fond of the man —he wasn't what he seemed to be. He wasn't the expressionless face that he wore.

The teen shook his head with a smile. No, that wasn't the case at all. He had feelings, expressions, beliefs. He had likes and dislikes, loves and hates. You could see it in his eyes, thirty-five years of emotion gathered on antiquated wood. Maybe that was why he could share so much with Danna; he emanated indifference, but truly understood. He wasn't the puppet he claimed to be —he was Real.

Perhaps that was the reason for what the teen was feeling now, that Sasori no Danna really could hear him and judge him. He had never judged him before, but...

Wait, what was he even worried about being judged for? He didn't even know why he felt the way he did. What was it?

_"I'm not gay."_

It always went back to that; every single time. Why did that bother him so much? Why did it make him sick when he thought about it? Why did it hurt so much to even think about talking to the man about it?

It didn't matter. Danna would know.

That was the thought in his mind as he walked, smiling as a familiar sign came into his field of vision.

RED SANDS PSYCHOLOGY

That was Danna's office; he'd have answers soon enough. He just had to tell him, and he would know—

A wave of cool air hit the young blonde as he entered the building; Danna hated hot places. He said that they made him feel slow. It was actually because they reminded him of home —Danna didn't like his desert home. He didn't like "doctor smells" either, so the entire office always smelled like flowers or spices. Today it was flowers.  
Deidara liked flowers.  
The teen took a deep breath of the rose and cherry blossom air, walking up to the front desk where the receptionist —Yuura— sat. The office was completely silent, save for his pen on paper. By the sound of it, he was running out of ink.

"Hey, Yuura." Deidara said, arms crossed as he leaned casually on the counter. "Need ink?"

The receptionist looked up, dropping the pen he had been banging on the table. His eyes seemed surprised and his goatee swayed slightly with the disturbance in the air.

"Oh, it's you—"

"Deidara." the boy supplied. He didn't need to; he had been going to this clinic longer than Yuura had worked there. The man knew his name by now.

Yuura nodded, pushing back a strand of his wispy hair.

"Yes; Master Sasori isn't in today." he said calmly. Deidara laughed.

"Yeah, right, un. Good one, Yuura."

"No, real—"

Deidara was already down the hall, making his way to Sasori's office. His fingers were laced behind his head in a carefree manner. Yuura hurried after him, but only caught up once he had stopped dead in front of a door. Upon stopping, the teen noticed three things immediately.

One: The door was open.

Two: The light was off.

Three: Danna was wasn't there.

Deidara spun around, grabbing Yuura by his collar.

"Where is he, un?!"

"I told you, he isn't in!

The blonde dropped the man, shoving him at the wall before storming down the hall towards the exit. Danna was ALWAYS in. Even at night. Even on the weekend. He was literally there 24/7, unless they were having an artistic session or lunch or something. Or meetings, he had those sometimes. But not without prior planning! Something was wrong; Deidara knew it.

And he would find out what it was.

Deidara took to the street, storming across the asphalt. Danna wasn't at the office. The idea was laughable! Danna being at work was more of a constant than the sun rising in the morning.

_Something was off on Monday._

That was true; there was certainly something up with him then. He hadn't pressed the issue. He should have, though; what if something awful happened? What if Danna was in trouble? What if he was hurting? What if—

_'Danna will be fine.'_ he thought to himself, cutting himself off. _'Stop worrying.'_

Still, if something _was_ wrong, if something _had_ happened... Deidara didn't know what he would do. What would he do without Sasori no Danna? Surely he couldn't live without him to talk to...

Deidara stopped dead in his tracks. He'd never realized just how much of his existence revolved around the sessions with his doctor. Looking back, he did everything he could to keep them. He blew off friends, pulled all-nighters to finish homework he pushed aside...his entire life hinged on that hour, the hour when he truly felt accepted, when he truly felt loved.

_"I'm not gay."_

Suddenly, Deidara understood what the feeling in the pit of his stomach was.

He understood why he didn't like it, why it felt like a lie on his lips —it was, at least partially. Did he like boys? Did he like girls? He didn't really know anymore. He'd just ask Danna; he'd know the answer—

No. He _couldn't_ ask Danna, not this time. What would he say? How would he react? He said that he could tell him anything, but still...he couldn't risk the only thing he held dear. He couldn't risk Danna.

The teen kicked at the gravel on the sidewalk, his mind in disarray. He needed help. But what could he do? He couldn't ask Tobi —god no. He'd rather shove pins in his eyes. But he couldn't talk to Danna either, not about this.

_'I really need to talk to him.'_

Deidara grabbed fistfuls of golden hair, his eyes shut in frustration. He did need to talk to him, no matter how embarrassing it might be. Still, he wasn't at the office.

The teen let his arms fall to his sides, staring blankly down at his feet as he remembered his worry. Something _must_ be wrong. There had to be. Danna didn't miss appointments.

_"I hate waiting and making people wait."_

That was his BIGGEST pet peeve; the man had no patience. None at all. It wasn't just unlike him to stand someone up, it was outright heretical.

Deidara clenched his fists at his sides, a mix of worry and determination glinting in his eyes. He had to know what was going on. He had to find out. He had to know that Sasori was alright, even if he had to pay him a house visit.

He had to know.

The blonde took off, his ponytail whipping in the wind behind him. He _would_ find his scarlet-tressed doctor, and he'd blow up anything that got in his way.

* * *

[Author's Note]

Again, sorry about the long wait. T'was a deadly combination of school and writer's block.

I'm really not satisfied with this, but it's written, it's not total shit, and damn it, it's been weeks. I wanted to update. Besides, I am my own worst critic; I wouldn't be surprised if nothing was actually wrong with it.  
I hope you liked it. :3

Did you catch the Velveteen Rabbit reference?

Oh yeah, music. Here's what I wrote to:

First Bit:  
[Even Flow — Pearl Jam]

Middle:  
[Die Another Day — Madonna] Are we even remotely surprised?

End:  
[Life Starts Now — Three Days Grace] Uh, THANK YOU, Akatsuki Annabell-YAOI ROCKS, this is an absolutely wonderful song for this story.

AN HONORABLE MENTION goes to PsychoPyro, who recommended "Already Gone" by Bayside. I wrote an essay to it! :D

Thanks guys! Keep up your suggestions and lovely reviews!

And if you don't review, I will ensure that you get in Deidara's way. *points at last line of chapter*  
And we don't want that, do we?


	7. Chapter 7

Author's Note

GODDAMN, guys. It's been awhile. I am SO sorry. It came so slow, and even now it's short. IB has been stressful and demanding. Homework here, essay there, fucking internal assessments falling from the rooftops...not to mention that I've been suffering some pretty severe writer's block. Forgive me, please. I'll try to do better.  
But on a happier note...

WE HAVE OVER 1,500 VIEWS!  
OVER 50 REVIEWS!  
26 FOLLOWERS!  
AND 15 FAVORITES!

WOOOOOOOOOOO  
On with the story! :D

* * *

So Help Me, Freud — Chapter 7

_"The paranoid are never entirely mistaken" — Sigmund Freud_

Deidara stood in the driveway of Sasori's house. Something was off. His doctor was definitely home —the living room lamp was on. However, that was one of the things that set off a bell in his head; the lamp was on even though the curtains were open and it was bright and sunny out. Sasori didn't do that, he didn't waste. He only used what was necessary to be efficient.

Somehow, Deidara had a feeling that that lamp had been on for a while.

The blonde took a cursory glance at his surroundings, and though he wasn't looking for anything, some things just stuck out. Fallen leaves were cluttered about his driveway. Weeds had grown. His car was dirty. Upon further inspection, it had dried egg on it.

Danna hadn't been out of the house —he couldn't have been. The mess would have driven him mad. The Danna he knew would have swept the leaves, pulled the weeds, washed his car...  
Deidara stopped. The Danna he knew wouldn't have left work. There was no point in noticing these oddities; he already knew something was wrong. He didn't need an egged car to tell him that —though it certainly made him worried. Worrieder.  
Swallowing a lump of fear, the blonde clumsily brushed a hair from his face and strolled up to the door. He did his best to look casual and NOT the way he certainly did: scared, a mess, and worried. What if Danna was just sick? That could be it; Danna was just sick and he didn't want to infect him. Nevermind the umpteen colds he'd caught from the man...he was just sick...  
Deidara cautiously rapped on the door.

The blonde wasn't sure what he had expected to happen when he knocked on the door. He wasn't sure if he subconsciously thought that doing so would resolve all of his stress or magically fix his problem. Whatever he thought, though, was wrong. His stress was not resolved. His problem was not fixed. Knocking on the door just left him standing in front of the door. Dumbstruck.

"God DAMN IT!" he yelled.

Deidara slammed his fist against the hardwood door. Where was he!? Where _the fuck_ could he—

The thought was dispelled with a creak as the door pushed out against the the teen's arm, causing his eyes to shoot open, immediately falling upon the figure past the threshold. The man there was nearly unidentifiable.

The boy's breath jolted, his heart skipping a beat. "Danna!" he shouted.

His shout was answered with a second of widened eyes, quickly followed by the harsh slam of the door. Deidara's hand lingered in front of him, frozen in a half-completed wave.  
He was gone.  
The blonde turned the doorknob to no avail.

Just like that, he was gone.

* * *

Author's Note

Once again, I am SO sorry. It came so slow, but it's still so short. I think Saso POV will come faster, and I'm fairly certain everything will go faster once Deidara gets in the house. I'm sorry. I really am. Music?

In no specific order:

[Over and Over — Three Days Grace]  
[Life Starts Now — Three Days Grace]

And a special acknowledgement:  
[Rage Quit Level 2 — R3DG34R]

R3DG34R here, is one of my buddies. He's one of my readers, and a kickass maker of techno tunes. Seriously, he's pretty cool. You should go listen to his music over at bandcamp:  
r3dg34r DOT bandcamp DOT com

Seriously, do it.

Oh, and review, if you don't mind. Please.


	8. Chapter 8

Wow, another long break, and once more, not much to show for it. Sorry guys D:  
The good news is, we're probably only looking at one or two more chapters to go after this one.  
I'm so glad you guys have stayed with me for so long :3 I love you guys.

So just a quick note and I'll get to the chapter:  
The Freud quotes INSIDE the chapter have been distorted to say something slightly different than they do (except for one).  
Alright, onward!

* * *

_"Men are strong so long as they represent a strong idea they become powerless when they oppose it." —Sigmund Freud_

Sasori's mind was in shambles as he turned away from the door, his greatest love and greatest fear just inches behind it. The boy had come to find him. Normally his rationale would say "Of course he did", but that part of his mind didn't function anymore. It had been replaced with sheer panic, grief, and love. He didn't want to feel this. Not anymore. He couldn't do this anymore.  
The redhead ambled back to his chair and slumped down in it, covering his face with his palms. Frazzled nerves and endlessly firing synapses drowned his world in broken words, disjointed speech.

"_You_ are completely egoistic; _you_ feel _your_ needs intensely and strive ruthlessly to satisfy them."

"_You're_ a mistake, a giant mistake."

The ghost of the Father berated the doctor ruthlessly within the confines of his mind, tearing all thought to shreds as Sasori's breaths grew thinner. His world distorted. Chairs and lamps grew taller, thinner, spindly figures sprouting from the bookcase, twisting into shadows of his love and God, slinking their way around him, taunting him, watching him. Laughter rang through his ears and the rest of the world spun as he crept into a fetal position in his recliner.

_"Heheh, I know, un."_

Terrified brown eyes looked through the gaps of porcelain fingers to peek at the shadowy figures that now stood a few feet before him, gossiping to each other behind their hands.

_"He is very crazy."_

_"No kidding, yeah."_

_"Neurotic—"_

"GO AWAY!" Sasori screamed. His nails bit into the flesh of his forehead, dragging a path of broken skin as his hands trembled. The shadowy Deidara laughed.

_"Ha, make us, __Danna__."_

The doctor's knees hit his chin as his whole body shook.

_"Can't you do it, un?"_

Ragged red lines were now torn down his cheeks. The figure of Freud glared at him.

_"If you can't do it, give up!"_

Sasori swallowed hard, peering up at the figures that mocked him.  
He _could_ do it.

Using the very last of his will, the red-haired man forced himself to his feet, stumbling past the figures and toward the pantry.

He _could_ make them leave.

Sasori fumbled with shelves, finding the spare bottle of anti-psychotics that he kept for Deidara.

_But..._ he thought, haphazardly pouring out pills.

_I might have to give up._

Sasori forced the pills down his throat, swallowing them dry before sinking to the floor dizzily. A faint smile crossed his lips.  
_Goodbye, Deidara. I love you._

Those were the thoughts echoing through his head as he drifted slowly into unconsciousness. His last thoughts would be of the man he loved.

The last sound he heard was an explosive blast.

* * *

Damn, I'm getting bad about these depressing endings for chapters.  
But do not lose hope! One or two more chapters!

Stay tuned!

Music:  
[Life Starts Now — Three Days Grace]

That's actually it; I wrote most of this without any music at all.

Review or take an arrow to the knee! I meant an OD to the bloodstream!


	9. Chapter 9

Author's Note  
I'm back, a bit quicker this time. I bring...a chapter longer than the last one!  
I actually thought it'd be longer than it is, and intended it to be, but I stupidly wrote in 1st person SasoPOV. When I needed to go to DeiPOV, I decide to just cut it off rather than make it weird. Still...longer than last time!  
I'll try to get Ch.10 out in a timely manner. But first:

* * *

SHM,F Ch. 9

_"Analogies, it is true, decide nothing, but they can make one feel more at home." — Sigmund Freud_

I was seeing red.

That wasn't too surprising; I'd figured I'd much sooner see Hell than Heaven. The only shock would've been that my philosophy was wrong.

But something didn't seem quite right.

_Is Hell not the right shade of red?  
No, that's not the problem.  
It doesn't have...depth.  
Am I doomed to read a map of Hell for eternity?  
Satan's soft on atheists.  
That explains these lines, they're rivers... Of course, see, there's Styx, Lethe, Phlegethon...so the Greeks were right...  
Wasn't their underworld black? Or dark?  
Did theirs have a section for atheists?_

My head was swimming with questions when I felt _something_ on my hand. Very light, hardly there...I could barely feel it...  
There it was again.  
And again.  
Always in different spots.  
Barely touching.  
Just enough to trip my nerves.  
Just like...

It was then that the truth dawned on me.

_Bugs.  
This is Hell, and it's bugs.  
Creepy-crawly bugs.  
Hell bugs.  
I'm probably covered in them.  
Covered in creepy-crawly hell bugs.  
Fuck my afterlife._

I decided that the Greek underworld dealt with atheists by making them eternally read maps whilst covered in insects. They were probably termites too. Termites were the worst.

_That's it, they've covered me in termites, hungry termites. They've isolated me from everything else, so the termites will be forced to eat through my flesh and make me their hive —is it called a hive?—I don't give a fuck— I'm already dead, so my flesh will endlessly regenerate here, giving food to generation after generation of termites...over time, they will evolve —did Greeks believe in— to have traits more suited to gnawing through me...reinforced mandibles, greater carnivorous tendencies...innate desire to inflict pain upon their prey...all while instinctively knowing not to touch the brain, lest I be unable to feel..._

Then another sense picked up.  
_Which one?_  
I was receiving the raw information, the sensory input, but I couldn't determine what it was, where it was from, or how to interpret it.  
_Process of elimination._

_Sight?  
I can see.  
Touch?  
These termites are here, so I can feel.  
Taste?_

I took a moment and tried to process the data through that channel, but it didn't quite...match up...quite right...

_Smell?_

The same result.

_Sound._

That was all that was left. It was either that, or my senses were entirely screwed up. Unsure of whether or not it'd be prudent to pray for the latter, I tried to "listen" to the information.

It was crying.

I paused in surprise, the sound of sobbing filling my mind. Now that I could hear it, I couldn't stop. It was just there.  
Crying.

Somehow, the termites on my hand turned into something stronger, squeezing my flesh relentlessly. Snakes, perhaps.

The sobbing grew louder and the snakes coiled tighter.  
Louder.  
Tighter.  
Louder.

But it wasn't until the next thing that I understood what was going on.

The sobbing collapsed on me, dampening my cheek. Wispy hairs tickled my nostrils and stuck on my skin as a low whine was whimpered in my ear.

"Dannn...un..."

I understood.

This wasn't hell. I wasn't dead. I was alive, and Deidara thought I wasn't.

The truth rushed over me and I pushed my will to move my lips, which were dry and cracked. I could almost taste iron as they opened, and I breathed out lightly,

"Dei."

* * *

Author's Note

See? Everything's fine. One or two more chapters, guys. I know I said that last time.  
To LazyGaGa: I think we're a bit closer to humor with this one, though I wasn't trying for that.  
To Everyone Else: Thank you for reading everything so far! I appreciate your loving support!

I'd give a music list, but I don't know what all I listened to.

Fun Fact: I did my TOK Art Presentation on why SHM,F and other fanfictions are art.

Love you guys! Review or be covered in termites!

EDIT: Apparently "Creepy Crawly Hell Bugs" are a thing, and they are a species of centipede/millipede, I forget which.

Tags: fanfiction, sasodei, sasori, sohelpmefreud


	10. Chapter 10

Author's Note

I'm back guys! I have a *Zelda OoT "Get Item" sound* FULL LENGTH CHAPTER. Oh shit, I know. Absolutely insane. Crazy, crazy shit.  
*glares at Solace in the Chaos*  
I don't want to hear any complaints about the length this time. You got 1000+ words here.  
A big thanks to everyone that takes the time to write me reviews. I love you guys so much. You're the best.  
83 REVIEWS, WOOO!  
38 FOLLOWERS!  
20 FAVORITES!  
3,465 VIEWS!  
Holy fuck, that's a lot! Did I mention that I love you? Because I do. I SO MUCH DO.

Also: who's on Tumblr? I'm planning on setting up a sort of bloggy thing for my stories and related doodles and stuff. You know, for those of you that care. ((reid-it DOT tumblr DOT com)) Nothing there yet, but I intend to get it up and going.

So now then...Commence chapter!

* * *

So Help Me, Freud - Chapter 10

_"My love is something valuable to me which I ought not to throw away without reflection" —Sigmund Freud_

The boy's eyes shot open in surprise. Was that what he thought it was? Unsure, he tentatively poked the man's cheek.

"Danna?"

He poked the man's cheek again, knocking a strand of scarlet hair over his eyes. To Deidara's surprise, this elicited a cough as Sasori attempted to blow the hair off his face.

"Gah..Dei..."

Deidara sat up, eyes wide and fixated on his doctor.

"Dann-un!" he said, his tears quickly drying. "You're alive!"

Sasori slowly forced his eyes opened and they yielded to his command, cracking with dried sleep. He pulled his hand up weakly, brushing some of it away.

"Dei..." he repeated again, pulling himself up to sit on the bed. He briefly looked at his sterile white surroundings before letting his eyes rest lazily on the young man in front of him. He breathed in slowly through his nose, but quickly winced, his face disgusted.

"Ack," he spat. "Hidan."

The blonde's dazed expression gradually pulled into a smile. That was him. Sasori-no-danna. It was him. He was okay.

And before he could think, he was hugging him.

"Danna." he murmured. Tears slid down his cheek and onto his doctor's neck. Stunned, Sasori spent a moment in indecision, but it wasn't long before his hands acted on their own, moving to return the teen's embrace. Expression as stoic as ever, he laid his head on the boy's shoulder.  
"Dei."

The two sat there in silence for what seemed like ages until a small tap was made on the door. Sasori looked at it in confusion, disoriented. Deidara slowly turned his head to look at the turning doorknob and quickly jumped back before the door could open. A young man in black casually walked in, holding a clipboard with one hand while the other carelessly rifled through his messy brown hair. A cloth hand puppet stuck out of his pants pocket, suggesting that he'd probably just returned from pediatric care.

"Oh," he said, taking note of the now-sitting man. "You're awake."

Sasori slowly nodded, watching as the man pulled second chair towards the bed. Deidara watched intently, regularly shifting his gaze between the two men. The black-clad doctor tossed his clipboard on the bed and the corner of his mouth pulled into a smile. Subconsciously, Sasori noted the odd shade of purple that colored his lips and the edges of his eyes.

"Well, that's good." he said, looking at the redhead. "How are you?"

Sasori didn't answer.

"Eh, that's alright. You don't have to answer. I'm Kankuro. Don't call me doctor. I really hate it. That's why I told you my first name; use it. I'm the hospital's poison expert. It seems you overdosed on some anti-psychotics."

Sasori glanced around before staring out the window that vomited sunbeams into the room. Kankuro continued, gesturing at Deidara.

"This kid brought you in just in time. He said that he was taking care of you and accidentally gave you the wrong medication. Seems he grabbed two bottles of ziprasidone when he thought he was getting acetaminophen and ibuprofen. Gave you a full twelve hour dose of both. You'd've been dead if he hadn't brought you here when you unexpectedly passed out."

Sasori turned to look at the blonde teen who was tensely staring out the window while he fidgeted with his fingers, a behavior Sasori now knew was his "tell" that he was lying.

"But you aren't, thanks to him, the ER team, and myself. You should be really happy. Now that you're awake, I'll get the head nurse to look you over. If she says it's alright, you could be out of here by dinner time."

Sasori nodded in acknowledgement, and Deidara softly muttered a "Thank you" as the man left. Once he was gone, Sasori locked Deidara in a steely glare, one typically reserved for when he had to bail the boy out of jail.

"Explain." he said firmly.

Another long silence followed as the two men sat there in a perpetual battle to make the other speak. Ultimately though, Deidara was the one to break the silence.

"Actually," he said hesitantly, his gaze falling to the floor. "I think you should."

"...huh?" Sasori blurted out. Deidara's eyebrows furrowed together angrily and he lowered his voice, moving closer to the red-haired man.

"I think you should explain why you've been acting weird —and don't say you haven't. First you acted weird at my appointment, smiling when you shouldn't and excusing me when you wouldn't. I found out in my neighborhood that you stopped your treatment with Hidan. Did you know he lived just down the block from Tobi? Of course you didn't —you never left the office enough to know that. So imagine what a surprise it was..."

The teen trailed off, looking at his doctor.

"...what a surprise it was to find that my doctor, the man that rarely left the office when work was _over_, hadn't even come to work at all."

Sasori opened his mouth to talk, but Deidara didn't let him.

"And," he continued, "imagine what it was like for me, who admired you, trusted you, _loved you_... to have you, my precious Danna, slam your door in my face when I was so concerned about you?"

"Deidara." the man whispered, staring into the sky blue of Deidara's eyes. His own eyes welled up and his heart pounded. "Dei—"

"No," said the teen, silencing the man as a teardrop streaked down his face. "I'm not done yet. I'm not done at all, because that wasn't even the worst of it. Because after you stopped seeming yourself, after you didn't show for the one appointment I needed most, after I hunt you down to have a door slammed in my face..."

Deidara paused, pulling a small bottle out of his pocket as another tear fell.

"Because after all of that, after I, in panic, blow up the side of your front door...after everything I've experienced with you, Danna, I find you unconscious in your pantry with this laying empty beside you."

Sasori sat there, dumbstruck.

"Now I'm going to ask you again, Danna. Explain."

* * *

Author's Note

I'm going to stop predicting how many chapters are left now, because I don't even know anymore. But hey, guess what? WAY EASIER TO WRITE A ROMANCE WHEN THE CHARACTERS ARE INTERACTING. No, seriously, way easier! Never would've guessed, right? Who'd've thought?

Music:  
There's actually a lot since I wrote on shuffle, but I will note the songs that I found me writing smoothly to.

[Prayer of the Refugee - Rise Against]  
[Because You Live - Jesse McCartney (I think?)]  
[One Headlight - Wallflowers]  
[The Only Difference Between Martyrdom and Suicide is Press Coverage - Panic! At the Disco]  
[Miscellaneous Billy Talent songs]

Anywho, hope you enjoyed this Full Length!Chapter, as well as Deidara's rage and Kankuro's cameo. Review or get your door blown up.


	11. Chapter 11

[Author's Note]

Well, I almost didn't write this. My wonderful fans that gave me an average of 9 reviews per chapter only gave me two. I was sad. I checked my email the day after, expecting the usual deluge of stuff from FF, and there was nothing there. Nothing.  
I actually decided that I wouldn't write this chapter until I got 5 reviews for Ch. 10, but alas, I have people IRL that are waiting for this chapter and I decided that it wasn't fair to not write it without giving you some kind of warning. So I hope you like it.  
Please review.  
Also, I get emails when you follow and favorite. People that do so without reviewing: I KNOW WHO YOU ARE.  
To the chapter! ヽ(；▽；)ノ

* * *

So Help Me, Freud — Ch. 11

"_Love and work are the cornerstones of our humanness." — Sigmund Freud_

The man and his patient sat there in silence for several minutes, searching each other's eyes for any sign that they would break the silence, but there were none to be found. Deidara had said all that he had to say. Sasori couldn't find a way to phrase his words. All of the options just seemed so...blunt.

Several more minutes passed and the blonde was growing sick of the silence.

"_Well,_ Danna?" he asked, propping his chin on his hand. His body was reclined in the plastic chair so that he was almost falling out of it, kept in place by the foot he had pressed against the bedside table. His eyes were fixed in a glare, and his other leg was on the bed, the treads of his shoes imprinting on Sasori's leg through the bed sheet. It was probably uncomfortable for the doctor, but Deidara didn't care. Danna deserved a little discomfort.  
"Well?" he repeated. "Spit it out. Talk."

Sasori lowered his head, breaking their eye contact. Quietly, he mumbled something into his hospital gown.

"Huh?"

He mumbled it again, and Deidara smacked the bedside table.

"Speak up, damn it!" he shouted. The teen's blue eyes seared angrily through the golden strands of his bangs. "Talk to my face!"

The doctor raised his head a little, showing his face but leaving his eyes obscured by red hair and shadows. His Adam's apple bobbed as he swallowed hard, opening his lips to speak.

"I love you." he whispered. Deidara narrowed his eyes, clenching his teeth angrily.

"Yeah, and I love you too. Otherwise I wouldn't have brought you here, yeah?. Of course we love each other, we've known each other approximately forever now so loving is practically requisite, I mean, I've known you longer than most people have dogs for, we're practically—"

Sasori grabbed Deidara's wrist, which had been gesturing haphazardly with the blonde's rambling.  
"Dei," he started, interrupting the teen. "I don't mean platonically."

Silence spread over them again as Deidara lowered his arms to his lap, his face blank as he understood what the man had just told him. He blinked a few times, half-expecting everything to dissolve into the bizarre clusterfuck of letters, numbers, and jumbled sounds that he imagined dyslexic nightmares were like.

"...really, un?" he said dumbly. He didn't know what to say. He just stared plainly as the red-haired man slowly nodded in response.

"Yes."

The blonde boy blinked again and looked down, tasking his eyes with finding patterns in the denim of his jeans. He didn't know where to look sometimes, and looking at the other man felt strange and uncomfortable. Sometimes he wished that he could make senses and parts of his body vanish and reappear at will.

"Why...didn't you tell me..." he asked, his voice trailing. "Is that why, why everything..."

The rest of Deidara's sentence didn't make sense, but Sasori understood, and he pulled his legs up to sit with them crossed. Once situated, he leaned his face on his knuckles, looking up to meet the gaze of the teen. The blue eyes had just diverted from his jeans.

"Yes," the doctor said again. "That's why...that's everything."

Deidara shook his head.

"I don't follow, Danna. I don't see how loving me got you in that hospital bed. Tell me the whole story, everything. I need to understand. I need to know."

Sasori nodded.  
"Fine. But don't...don't judge me."

"Of course."

"Alright then...where do I start..." he murmured, mostly to himself. Deidara raised his hand a little.

The blonde made a suggestion of where to start, and Sasori began, explaining everything. He recounted everything from the past week: how he tormented himself with his thoughts, how he was ashamed of what he felt, how he was sure that he was sick in the head. He told Deidara about how his heart was shattered to pieces by the remark that he made as he left the office. He explained that sending Hidan away wasn't entirely relevant to their situation; Hidan was just a dick and he was sick of it. He mentioned how he had teemed with jealously over Tobi. How he had _actually slept_ that night and woke up after dreaming about his patient. How he had sought comfort in the words of Sigmund Freud, but found that they did nothing but tear him down. He told about how he became little more than a puppet, shutting out everything around him. He explained how his heart nearly climbed through his throat when the teen came to his door, and how his world twisted into a nightmare, making his life unlivable.

"...and that's when I decided to make it stop." he finished, looking up at Deidara. "Then you saved me, I guess, and that brings us to where we are now."

Deidara looked up at his doctor, once again not knowing what expression it was that he needed to make.  
"Thank you." he said quietly. "I understand now."

"I'm glad you do," Sasori murmured, his eyes shifting down again. "So then...will you explain now? What the doctor says happened and what really happened are entirely different."

Deidara sighed. It was his turn now. "Well, I guess it wouldn't hurt for you to be in on the story. Be a shame if you messed it up after I've already gotten everyone to buy it—"

"Unh uh," Sasori said, shaking his head. "I don't need to know what you told them; Kankuro took care of that for you. I want to know _why_ you told them what you did. Why not tell them the truth? If I had died, you could've been arrested for manslaughter!"

Deidara pushed out his lower lip, crossing his arms and looking away.

"But if you died, I wouldn't care."

"What!?" Sasori shouted, making a wide sweeping gesture with his arm. "What are you talking about? You would go to jail!"

"So?"

"You have no one that would help you get out!"

"Exactly." the teen hissed. He paused for a moment before turning back to the red-haired man. "You're the only one I have."

The two men exchanged looks, and Deidara continued.

"I told them that because I knew that if I told them the truth, you would lose your job, and I couldn't do that to you...I couldn't make you lose your job, un, you love it too much, and besides..." the teen trailed off. "If you lost your job, un...you wouldn't be able to see me anymore. You couldn't be my doctor anymore, and I need you there for me. You're the only one that I can talk to, and I love you."

Deidara stood up and sat down on the side of the bed, moving to put his arms around the red-haired man. Pulling him close, the blonde leaned over to whisper in his ear.

"Not platonically."

* * *

[Author's Note]

Well? What do you think? Should that be the end? Should there be another chapter? What should be in the next chapter? Talk to me! I reply to ALL REVIEWS that I get; ask anyone that's reviewed with FF account. I do. Always. So review, and tell me what you think. Tell me if you there should be more to the story, and I'll happily chat with you about it.

Let me know! Review or I'll see to it that you get nothing more.

Also, I hate pronouns. I'm also running out of applicable Freud quotes. But I write anyway!  
Don't forget to follow me on Tumblr! reid-it DOT tumblr DOT com.

Review! ヽ(；▽；)ノ


	12. Chapter 12

[Author's Note]

See what happens when you review? I get shit done! Seriously guys, it hasn't even been a week yet. You guys are great, and I love you. Thanks to you, this story has gotten over 4,000 hits. I hope that I can continue to satisfy your voracious reading habits.

Enjoy!

* * *

So Help Me, Freud — Ch. 12

"_When a love-relationship is at its height there is no room left for any interest in the environment; a pair of lovers are sufficient to themselves" — Sigmund Freud_

"Goddamn it, Danna; what happened?"

Sasori shot a side-long glare at the blonde, who had his fingers laced behind his head. He looked disdainfully at the doctor's mess of a living room.

"What happened!?" the man growled angrily. "My front door was held shut by a brick!"

"You'd have preferred it stay open, hm?"

Sasori's eyebrow twitched. Things had returned to normal.

The man paused for a moment, but he eventually decided not to bother, turning and heading towards the kitchen.

"I'll give you a key when I get a new door." he called back. Deidara snickered from foyer.  
"Aww, you're not inviting me to live with you?"

"Nope."

Deidara faux-pouted, and moments later, Sasori returned from the kitchen, holding a box of mochi. He callously swept off everything that cluttered the sofa and gestured for the teen to sit with him. The blonde complied, but was somewhat irked by the variety of papers that now laid at his feet. Sasori frowned.

"Don't look like that. Your room was ten times worse."  
It was. Ōnoki had threatened to kick him out on more than one occasion for cleaning problems.

Deidara stuck out his lower lip.  
"So? This is your house."

"Your point?"

"Your house is supposed to be clean, yeah!"

The redhead leaned back, taking a bite of mochi.

"Well," he said coolly. "My mind wasn't exactly on cleaning for these past few days."

A silence fell over the two, weighing them down like bricks until Sasori broke it with the offer of a rice cake.

"Mochi?" he asked casually. Deidara shook his head.

"All you eat is sweets, Danna."

The man shrugged, popping the piece in his mouth instead.

"More for me."

Deidara sat there silently, staring blankly at the television that he was pretty sure Sasori had never used.

"Danna?"

The man paused, his finger pushing more mochi into his mouth.

"Hm?"

"What do we do now?"

The doctor looked at the blonde, chewing his food. Swallowing the sweet, he leaned on his hands, cocking his head slightly to the side.

"What do you mean?"

"Well," he started, blowing his bangs to the side, "What do we do now? I like you. You like me. We're not going to go back to just being doctor and patient, are we? I mean, you tried ignoring your feelings, and you see just how well that worked out for us. I could have lost you forever!"

Sasori scoffed.

"Forgive me for being under the impression that you _weren't gay_."

The teen puffed up his cheeks in anger.

"Hey! I said that about _Tobi_, hn. That's completely different." he paused and then added, "Besides...I don't really know what I am yet."

"You like me."

"You're different!"

"I don't see why."

Deidara opened his mouth to retort, but Sasori swiftly closed it with his lips. In response, the teen sputtered against his lead, his face flushing to match the doctor's. The sputtering led to coughs, and it wasn't long before he outright pushed the man away.

"D-Danna!" he spat, trying to cover his cheeks. The man tilted his head and frowned, disappointed.

"No?" he asked.

And that was the point in which Deidara spazzed across the living room.

"Huh? No! I mean, yes! I mean —fuck, Danna, how do I fucking answer that? I-I-I was just surprised! I liked it! I just wasn't expecting —DAMN IT! KATSU!"

He stomped the ground and threw a book, breathing deeply as he stood in place, eyes closed. When he opened them again, he found that the red-haired man was crouching, shielding his face against flying shrapnel.

"Danna?" he said calmly.

Sasori peeked through one eye, sitting up once he found that there wasn't any danger in the vicinity. He looked around, confused.

"What the hell?" he said, mostly to himself. "No bomb?"

Deidara raised an eyebrow.

"Pff, of course not. You think I'd take explosives to a hospital? Maybe you are crazy."

The man's face returned to its usual stoic appearance. The teen had done worse.

"But wasn't that the word you detonate with?"

"Yeah, but it's also one of my rarer tics. It was kind of my catchphrase when I was younger. I stopped saying it as much as I used to, but it's still fun to say."

The teen offered a small grin, and the two got back on the couch.

"But really, Danna, what happens now?"

Sasori leaned back and put his feet on the coffee table.

"What do you want to happen?"

Deidara shot an irritated glance at the doctor and looked down.

"What do you think I want..."

The doctor tilted his head and ran a hand through the teen's golden hair. His dusty brown eyes were soft and warm, and a slight smile was tugging at his lips.

"I haven't a clue." he chuckled. Deidara huffed and crossed his arms, looking away. The redhead rolled his eyes, moving to sit upright.

"Alright, maybe I do have a clue."  
The blonde nodded sassily, as if to say "MHMM."

"But," the redhead continued, "I want to do this right. I want to have a relationship that I can look back on forever, something that will still be perfect and beautiful when we're old—"

"Danna," Deidara interrupted. "Our feelings became known after you tried to kill yourself. It's not going to be perfect; it's too late for that."

This time, it was Sasori's turn to huff angrily. The teen chuckled as he watched the doctor's face flush.

"What's the matter, _Da-n-na_?" he teased, enunciating each syllable. The doctor took his head in his hand, groaning.

"I hate you, brat."

The blonde smirked.

"Really now?"

Sasori glared.

"Really. Have dinner with me sometime?"

"That a date, un?"

"You could say that."

"Dango?"

"If you're good."

"And if I'm not?"

Sasori narrowed his eyes, tapping the teen's forehead.

"Don't get ahead of yourself, brat."

The blonde just laughed, picking a piece of mochi out of the box and holding it up the the redhead's mouth. Raising an eyebrow, the doctor tentatively took a bite.

"You shouldn't be so grumpy, Danna."

"Whatever." he said grumpily. Deidara smiled.

Yes, everything was back to normal.

* * *

[Author's Note]

I'd like to credit Envyyyy for the first line of this chapter, as they used it in their review of Chapter 7. Reading past reviews actually helped to jump start my writing.

Well, this officially concludes this plot arc for SHM,F, but I'm going to just start the next arc now. I might just write a one billion page book about these two; I love them so much. So many feels for them.

Also, just so you guys know: "n" can be its own syllable in Japanese. "Da-n-na" is a correct syllabic breakdown.

Also, tip your hats to airplanes! They brought you this story AND this chapter!

*bows*

Thanks for reading! Review or have to close your newly-broken door with a brick.


	13. A Note From the Author

A Note From the Author

I want to apologize to everyone that thought this was the next chapter; I'm so sorry. This is just an Author's Note, but I wanted to make sure everybody saw it. This seemed like the best way to do that.

I am going to mark So Help Me, Freud as complete.

No, the story is not over. I actually have 500 words or so written for the next chapter. But seeing as Chapter 12 resolved the plot and conflict of SHM,F, I think the new plot arc should start a new fic. I plan on calling it Society and It's Discontents.

However, that title isn't guaranteed, and I highly suggest keeping tabs on me as a writer so that you'll know when it gets written.

This is, of course, if you want to know what happens after the events of SHM,F.

Anywho, I just wanted everyone to know what's going on. For regular updates on the progress of my fics, follow me on my tumblr that I created with you guys in mind. Seriously; I created that blog for my SHM,F readers.

reid-it . tumblr . com

I love you guys! I hope to see you in Society and It's Discontents!


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